


patiently heal you, patiently unreel you

by scientits (donedirection)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Collars, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donedirection/pseuds/scientits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a plug, gold-plated with a pink gemstone at the base. It’s pretty and delicate and utterly Harry.</p>
<p>Or, the one where Louis finds a butt plug that's as sparkly as Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	patiently heal you, patiently unreel you

**Author's Note:**

> when i saw harry's gold glittery motorcycle helmet i figured it probably wasn't the only sparkly thing he liked
> 
> title from "lofticries" by purity ring
> 
> scientitss on tumblr :)

When Louis gets the text that Harry has arrived at the apartment, he is sat in the back of a car on his way home from the airport. He briefly considers calling, but decides that his excitement might get the best of him and ruin the rest of his plans. Instead he carefully types out:

_have a shower and i’ll call with more instructions when i’m closer to home_

He looks it over before pressing send and decides that this is as commanding as he can be via text.

Although if he’s being honest, he doesn’t have much to worry about. Harry trips over himself if there’s so much of a hint of authority in Louis’ voice. He’s only just sent the text, but he’s sure that Harry’s already tossed his clothes onto the floor and is halfway to the shower by now. He regrets missing this bit – the undressing – but there will be plenty of time for that this week.

He has a quick scroll through Twitter while he waits for the time to pass. And once he starts to recognize his surroundings, he scrolls to Harry’s name in his contacts. This time he calls because he wants to hear Harry’s reaction, the way his breath will catch in his throat and the stream of thanks that will come spilling out after.

“Lou?” 

“Hey, love,” Louis answers. “How was your flight?”

“Good, it was good, long but good,” Harry answers, already sounding a little breathless, like he’d had to run to get to the phone or like he’s already getting worked up about what Louis has planned.

“Good, did you do what I asked?”

“Yes,” Harry replies, “Even washed my hair.”

“Good,” Louis says softly, hoping that his tone conveys the “good boy” that has to go unspoken on semi-public transport. He lets the silence hang in the air a moment longer, picturing Harry, damp hair spilling over his face, nervously pulling at this bottom lip while he waits. “I left you a present.”

“Really?” Harry asks, and Louis swears he can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, before I left. I put it in the top drawer of your nightstand.” Louis bites his lip while he waits, listening for Harry’s footsteps padding across their room, the quiet whoosh of the drawer opening, and the soft sound of Harry opening the box.

Harry breathes out a surprised, “Oh.”

It’s a plug, gold-plated with a pink gemstone at the base. It’s pretty and delicate and utterly _Harry._ Louis can hear Harry’s breath through the phone, can imagine him running his fingers over the smooth surface.

“For me?” Harry finally manages.

“Of course for you, kitten,” Louis says, realizing a beat too late that “kitten” is perhaps not the most discrete pet name to use over the phone while sat in the back of a stranger’s cab. Oh well, he’ll make sure to tip well. “And what do we say?”

“Thank you, Lou, thank you so much. It’s so beautiful.”

Louis wants to let Harry get himself worked up about this, so he doesn’t respond, just waits, listening to Harry’s uneven breaths.

“Lou, how long til you get home?” Harry finally asks, and to Louis’ delight he can already hear a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

“Should be a bit, love, but I have another job for you to do for me. I’ll text you.”

Louis hangs up and quickly opens a text to Harry, typing out careful instructions that Harry is to get himself ready, open himself up with two fingers and then put his new plug in, and to send Louis a picture.

He tries not to think about Harry slicking up his fingers and reaching behind him. Or Harry rubbing the pad of his index finger over his hole before nudging his fingertip in. Or Harry’s mouth falling open when he slides in to the first knuckle. Or Harry letting out a hiss of air while he scissors his fingers to open himself up. But even as he half-heartedly slides 2048 tiles around, it’s all he can think about.

His hand might shake a little when he swipes the text open. And as far hasty sexts go, Harry’s is a treasure. He had taken the picture in the mirror on their closet door, bent over the side of their bed, one hand holding his phone and the other spreading himself open just enough for Louis to see the pink rhinestone nestled snugly against him.

Louis foregoes any compliments, instead skipping right to his follow up instructions. He wants Harry to wait for him in the corner of their room, face pressed against the wall, legs apart, and hands behind his head. It’s a little difficult to put the position he wants Harry in into words, but Harry has spent plenty of time posed in the corner, so Louis figures he’ll suss it out.

Harry texts back a simple, _thank you,_ and Louis thinks he might die right there in the back of a cab.

They get caught in a spot of traffic, and Louis thinks about Harry’s arms growing heavy from holding them up, his cheek getting sore from being pressed against the wall, his muscles screaming from being held in the same uncomfortable position for so long. Harry could easily abandon the pose in favor of a more comfortable one until he hears Louis’ key in the door, but Louis knows he won’t. And knowing that – knowing that Harry bends entirely to his will when he’s not even there – is the part that makes his head spin a little.

Once they pull up to the house things are kind of a blur. He pays the driver, making sure to leave a handsome tip, throws his duffel bag over his shoulder, and digs into his pocket for his keys. The house is eerily quiet without the sound of Harry singing along to the radio or talking back to the television. And the sound of Louis’ shallow breaths is deafening in his own ears as he makes his way down the hall.

He pauses before he enters, hand poised to push the door open, trying to compose himself. He’s not really in his top space yet, and he’s afraid he might just hug Harry, ruining their scene before it’s even begun. But he steels himself and pushes the door open.

And he is not disappointed by what he finds. Harry is corner, hands behind his head, shoulder muscles taut across the top of the smooth plane of his back, feet apart, and bent at the waist just enough for Louis to see the light catch on the base of his plug. As he moves closer, he notices Harry’s legs trembling, a sure sign that he hasn’t moved.

“Hey, kitten,” Louis says, placing a careful hand onto Harry’s hip, letting his fingers trail down the small curve of his ass. Harry only makes a whining sound in return, face still pressed against the wall. Usually Louis would insist that Harry use words, but he decides to make an exception, instead snaking his hand around to Harry’s front and just barely brushing against Harry’s cock, hanging hard between his legs. Harry’s hips start to move forward, chasing the fleeting touch, but Louis jerks his hand away.

“Did waiting for me get you excited, kitten?” Louis whispers into Harry’s shoulder. He lets his fingertips ghost along Harry’s sides, feeling goose bumps rising in their wake. “Do you like posing for me even when you get sore, hmmm? Does that get you hard?” 

Again, Harry’s only response is a whine. This time Louis lets out a disappointed sigh, and slides his hand up Harry’s torso to give his nipple a pinch, “You have to answer with words, love.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Louis prompts, twisting Harry’s nipple between his fingers.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “Like being good for you.”

“Of course you do, kitten, and you look so pretty,” Louis murmurs, sure that Harry is wearing a pleased grin even if he can’t see it. “So pretty,” he repeats, sliding his hand down Harry’s side again and letting it come to rest just above his bum. “And how does this feel?” he asks, nudging the plug.

Harry groans, “Good, s’heavy.”

“Yeah, it’s metal, so you don’t forget it’s in there,” Louis is running his finger around the base of the plug, where his skin is slick. Harry whines. He reaches a hand up to get a hold on Harry’s hair, “You wanna do me a favor, love?”

Harry nods vigorously, causing Louis’ grasp on his hair to become taut, eliciting another whine.

“Want you to go to the dresser and get your collar for me,” Louis says, releasing his grip on Harry’s hair and stepping back to sit on the edge of their bed. Louis gets his first look at Harry’s face when Harry turns away from the wall, hands still clasped behind his head. His right cheek is red from being pressed against the wall, and he’s already glassy-eyed.

Louis watches Harry make his way across the room. Harry is less than graceful on his best days, but with the added challenges of a boner and a plug, his gait is almost comical. But he retrieves the collar, promptly places his hands back behind his head, and returns to the bed, sinking to his knees before Louis.

“Perfect,” Louis says, taking the collar from Harry’s hand. It’s nothing special, plain black patent leather with a gold heart shaped ring on the front. The inside is lined with suede because their last one had been uncomfortable in a not-sexy way. It’s soft, shiny, delicate, and undeniably Harry.

“Please,” Harry whispers, eyes darting from Louis’ face down to the collar in his hands. Louis reaches behind Harry and snaps the clasp shut, quickly hooking a finger through the ring and pulling. Harry follows, letting himself be pulled up until his face is close to Louis’.

This close, Louis can see that Harry’s pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted expectantly. He can smell Harry’s toothpaste and his stupid tropical shampoo. And he wants nothing more than to kiss him, but instead he says, “Need you to go get the cuffs too.” He lets his finger slip out of the ring, and Harry tips backward, quickly scrambling to his feet to retrieve them.

When he returns, kneeling at Louis’ feet, Louis takes the handcuffs and tosses them onto the bed next to him. “Reckon I’ve got a few too many layers on, huh?” Louis asks, glancing down at himself. Harry is looking up at him expectantly, hands still held behind his head, waiting.

Once Louis gives his nod of approval, Harry gingerly places Louis’ foot on top of his knee, carefully untying his trainer and setting it aside before starting on the second. Louis feels a wave of warmth wash through his body. He never quite gets over this part – Harry undressing him delicately but with hungry eyes.

Harry reaches up to undo Louis’ trousers, keeping his eyes on Louis’ face for any indication that Louis will stop him. When he doesn’t, Harry proceeds, and Louis can see that his fingertips are shaking slightly as he undoes the button and zipper. Louis lifts his hips off the bed, so Harry can pull his trousers and pants down.

Harry waits, like he’s unsure of his next move, which is exactly where Louis wants him to be. “Lou,” he says softly.

“Yes, kitten,” Louis answers, running a hand through Harry’s hair.

“Um, can I stand? Just to take your shirt off?”

Louis gives his hair a tug of affirmation, and Harry stands to pull Louis’ t-shirt over his head.

Louis considers making Harry put the clothes away, but he feels like they’ve been in the same room for ages and they’ve not even kissed yet. So instead he hooks his finger in Harry’s collar again and tugs.

“You’ve been very good,” Louis murmurs, brushing his lips against Harry’s.

Louis can feel Harry’s warm breath against his own lips when he says, “Yeah.”

Louis holds Harry’s face firmly with one hand and tips his head to slot their lips together, feeling Harry’s whole body relax into the kiss. As he licks into Harry’s mouth, he lets his other hand trace down Harry’s back to tap on the plug again.

“Lou,” Harry whimpers, words muffled by the kiss.

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do to you?” Louis asks, pushing Harry’s face away from his, so he can look at Harry’s lips, already swollen and spit slick. Sometimes he doesn’t want Harry to know what’s coming next, but he can’t pass up the opportunity to get him worked up like this.

“Please,” Harry breathes.

“First, I’m gonna cuff your hands. Behind your back I think,” Louis says, glancing over at the restraints. He traces Harry’s bottom lip with his finger, “Then I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I’m close.” Harry’s breathing has gone uneven, and Louis can feel his cock hot and hard against the inside of his thigh. “And then I’m gonna fuck you. Gonna come inside of you and then plug you back up. How’s that sound, kitten?”

Harry is squirming with excitement, trying to find some friction against Louis leg, but stills immediately when Louis gives his collar a sharp tug. “None of that, Harry. Let’s get your cuffs on.”

Harry turns, placing his hands behind his back, so Louis can hook the cuffs, patent leather and suede-lined like the collar, onto his wrists, and says, “On your knees then, love.”

Harry sinks to his knees in a single fluid motion that could kill a stronger man than Louis. He steps forward, giving his cock a few cursory tugs even though he’s already mostly hard. He traces the tip back and forth along Harry’s bottom lip, “Open up, kitten.”

Harry lets his mouth fall open, and Louis presses forward, letting himself sink into the wet heat of Harry’s mouth. He pulls out and pushes back in, shallow thrusts at first. But Harry is making slurping sounds that have no right to be as hot as they are. And he’s bobbing his head a little, like he’s growing impatient waiting for Louis to fuck his mouth properly.

So Louis grabs Harry by the hair and pushes into his mouth until he can feel the flutter of Harry’s throat muscles, so tight and hot that he almost feels dizzy with it. He pulls out for a second, letting Harry take a gulp of air, before shoving in all the way again. Then out, then in, then out, then in, sometimes pulling out long enough for Harry to take a shaky breath, but usually shoving back in before he has the chance to.

“Fuck, you look so pretty.” Harry is blinking up at Louis, eyes wet with tears and mouth slack, looking more than content to just let Louis use him, which somehow only makes Louis want more. He presses in until he feels his cock bump the back of Harry’s throat, and Harry splutters around him but doesn’t try to pull off.

It seems too soon, but Louis can already feel the heat pooling in his belly. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting the tip of his cock to Harry’s mouth. Harry doesn’t even cough, just looks up at Louis contentedly, all tear stained cheeks and swollen lips.

Louis tugs Harry’s hair, and he stands. “On the bed, kitten. Face down, bum up.”

Harry hurries to oblige, tripping over his own feet a little on his way. But he settles onto the center of the bed on his knees, the side of his face pressed into the sheets and his ass in the air.

Louis doesn’t waste any time, settling himself behind Harry and slicking himself up before gently pulling the plug out. Harry makes a choked sounding noise in the back of his throat when Louis’ pulls the widest part out. Louis runs his finger around the rim of Harry’s hole, puffy and slick and clenching around nothing.

Harry whimpers, but Louis quickly lines himself up and pushes in. The plug had been pretty small, so the first push is deliciously tight, stretching Harry out. Harry is making soft _oh_ sounds, and Louis knows he loves the slight burn of it.

Louis sinks in slowly, but picks up his pace almost immediately. He’s holding onto Harry’s hips, where the new laurel tattoos peek out, and slamming into him without finesse, worried only about chasing his own orgasm at the moment. But Harry is mewling under him regardless, pushing himself back into Louis.

Louis groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna –“

And Harry spurs him on with a desperate chant of, “Please, Lou, please, Lou, please.”

Everything goes static and he’s spilling into Harry. When he manages to gather himself, Harry is still panting, his face pressed into the blankets, urgently whispering muffled thanks. Louis pulls out slowly, reaching down to find the plug in the sheets.

He gently presses the tip against Harry’s hole. “You want it, kitten, you want me to plug you up so you can keep my come inside of you?”

Harry is nodding desperately into the sheets, “Please, yes, please, Lou.”

“Tell me how much you want it,” Louis says, nudging the plug against Harry’s hole.

“S’much, Lou, please, I wanna keep it all inside, I wanna keep you inside.”

“You’re fucking filthy, you know that? You’re disgusting,” he says, pushing the plug in a tiny bit before pulling it back out. Harry whines. “Say it.”

“I’m filthy, disgusting, please, Lou,” he begs, burying his face deeper in the blankets.

“That’s right,” Louis says, finally slipping the plug into him, eliciting a high-pitched whine from Harry. He leans forward over Harry’s back to ask, “And who are you filthy for?”

“You, Lou, you,” Harry says, looking back at Louis with desperate eyes.

“Good,” Louis says, punctuating the word by tapping on the plug. “You wanna clean me up then, kitten?”

Harry scrambles onto his knees, clumsier than usual without the use of his hands. He leans and takes Louis into his mouth, gently swiping his tongue along it to clean him.

When Harry is done he kneels, looking at Louis expectantly. His cock is wet with precome and looks painfully hard – Louis almost feels bad for how long he’s going to keep Harry waiting, but he pulls his pants back on anyway.

“Think I’ll play a bit of GTA, c’mon then,” Louis says, giving Harry’s collar a tug toward the door. Harry’s eyes go wide with surprise at first, but soon enough he’s following Louis out into their sitting room. And when Louis sits down on the couch with the Xbox controller, Harry folds himself up obediently at Louis’ feet, resting his head on Louis’ knee.

For the rest of the evening, Louis plays the game. Most of the time he lets Harry sit still, lazily watching the game, but he’ll occasionally reach out to touch Harry. Sometimes he runs a hand through Harry’s hair, scratching his head, and lets Harry nuzzle into the touch. Sometimes he’ll twist one of Harry’s nipples between his fingers and watch Harry’s face go lax. Sometimes he’ll reach behind Harry and tap on plug, reminding him that he’s full of Louis’ come - that he belongs to Louis. And sometimes he’ll wrap his hand around Harry’s cock and stroke it until he’s completely hard again. He wants to keep Harry in that beautiful space where he’s giving him just enough attention for his body to stay interested. He can’t get off but he can’t calm down either – like a purgatory of arousal.

After a while, Harry’s breaths become uneven, and he tenses up when Louis reaches for his cock. Louis puts his hand against Harry’s cheek and Harry turns his face into the touch. “What’s your color, kitten?” he asks, rubbing tiny circles with his thumb on Harry’s cheek.

“Green, very green,” he decides, looking up at Louis with adoring glassy eyes.

“Excellent,” Louis says, giving Harry’s nipple a fond pinch.

Later, he orders a Chinese takeaway and feeds bits of chicken and broccoli to Harry where he’s sat on the floor. And then it’s back to the game and the carefully withholding ministrations. By the time it’s dark, Harry’s whines have turned into quiet half sobs and his legs are trembling.

When Louis shuts the television off, Harry’s eyes dart up to Louis’ face. “You ready for bed, kitten?”

Louis hooks a finger into Harry’s collar and pulls him up, leading him back to their room. When they stop at the side of the bed, Harry swallows. Louis steps behind Harry and resting his fingertips on Harry’s wrists. “I’m gonna take these off, but I need you to be a good boy and stay still for me, okay?”

Harry nods vigorously, and Louis unclasps the cuffs. Harry’s hands fall to his sides and he wiggles his fingers a little bit, stiff from being clasped behind his back for so long.

“Okay, on your back, love,” Louis says, gesturing to the bed. Harry lays back. His cock is pressed up against his belly and looks painfully hard. Louis traces his index finger from the head of Harry’s cock down to his balls. “Knees up.”

Harry obliges, bending his knees and holding them up with his hands. Louis can see the base of the plug between Harry’s cheeks, pink and sparkly. “So pretty,” he says, tracing his finger around the edge, “just like you, kitten.”

Harry lets out a pleased groan and tries his best not to press down into Louis’ touch. Louis places a kiss to the inside of each of Harry’s knees. “You want me to fuck you again?”

Harry nods.

“You’ve gotta use your words for me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck you again? When you’re already full of my come?”

Looking down at Harry, Louis can see the rise and fall of his chest speed up. Harry looks up at him with hungry eyes, “Please, Lou, fuck me please.”

Louis slides the plug out, which makes an obscene slurping sound, and slides three fingers in. It should be disgusting, sliding his fingers into an ass filled with his own come, but it’s not. It’s not because Harry is warm and pliant under him, making needy little gasping sounds as soon as Louis crooks his fingers, pressing against the spot that the plug had been teasing at for hours. It’s not because Harry is looking up at him like he’s the fucking sun. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

Harry nods, head tossed back against the sheets, eyes closed and cheeks flushed, “So good, Lou.”

Louis pulls his fingers out of Harry and uses them to slick up his own cock before lining himself up with Harry’s hole. He lets the head of his cock press against Harry but doesn’t push in yet. Instead he leans forward and pulls Harry up by his collar to press their lips together in a desperate, messy kiss.

Louis presses in to Harry slowly, sinking in to the wet, tight heat. “ _Oh,_ ” Harry whines, “ _oh oh oh._ ”

Louis can see Harry’s fingers turning white where they’re grasping his knees, strained with the effort of not pushing his hips down after being denied for so long. Louis moves his hips in agonizingly slow circles. He barely moves at all really, but Harry’s breath hitches in his chest anyway.

“Please,” Harry groans.

Louis leans forward again, placing a hand on either side of Harry’s shoulders, and starts fucking into him earnestly, letting Harry’s cock brush against his stomach on each stroke. And before long, Louis can feel Harry’s legs starting to tremble.

“Please, Lou, please can I come?” he asks, looking up at Louis with wild eyes, like if Louis says no he’s not sure if he’ll be able to hold it off.

“In a bit, love,” Louis says, even though he can feel the tight hot curl of his own orgasm building in his stomach. Harry is a shaking, whining mess – exactly how Louis wants him. He presses gentle kisses to Harry’s shoulders and neck, in between whispers telling Harry how pretty he is like this and how good he’s being for Louis.

Harry is taking shaky breaths, and tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. He looks like he might die if he was to fight off his orgasm any longer. “I want you to come for me, love,” Louis whispers, nipping at the skin of his neck. Harry looks up at him with searching eyes, and Louis nods, speeding up his thrusts. “Be a good boy and come on my cock, yeah?”

Harry comes with a groan that sounds like it’s being ripped out of him. Harry is clenching around him so hard that he feels light-headed. And he can feel Harry’s come, hot and wet between them. He presses his lips to Harry’s, and it’s not so much a kiss as it is them panting against each other’s mouth.

After a moment, Louis pushes himself up so he’s kneeling between Harry’s legs again, starting up his thrusts again in small circles, knowing that even for Harry this might border on too much stimulation. But Harry just lets out a weak whine, too blissed out to care much.

Louis keeps the pace slow, orgasm steadily building, and drags his fingers through the come on Harry’s belly, above the laurels and up to the butterfly, gathering it and tucking his finger into Harry’s mouth. Harry greedily sucks Louis’ fingers into his mouth, looking more than happy to eat his own come if it’s Louis that’s offering it up.

“Fuck,” Louis groans, hips stuttering. “You want me to come in you again?”

Harry looks wrecked, eyes glassed over and torso still painted with traces of come, but he nods anyway and mumbles, “please” around the fingers in his mouth.

Louis’ pace is erratic and he’s so close. And suddenly he’s coming into Harry in hot spurts and Harry is mumbling a stream of thanks around Louis’ fingers. When he comes down from his orgasm, Harry is looking up at him fondly and a little far away.

He pulls his fingers out of Harry’s mouth and traces circles on Harry’s torso with his fingers, “You want me to clean you out, baby?”

Louis fully expects Harry to just nod along with whatever he says at this point, but Harry is shaking his head. “No?” Louis asks, reaching a hand up to brush Harry’s hair of his face, “What do you want, kitten?”

Harry glances to his side, where the plug is sitting and then glances back up at Louis. Louis can’t hold in his laugh. What on earth had he done to deserve this beautiful, ridiculous heathen of a boy?

“Of course you do, love,” he says still chuckling, but picking up the plug before he slowly pulls out. Harry gasps when Louis pushes the plug in, still sensitive, but he’s got a dopey smile on his face. “There, now you can keep it inside until the morning, happy?”


End file.
